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I think it’s time to sit down and type: I may have a cookie problem.

Cookies in computers are not exactly like cookies on a shelf. They help your browser locate your logins and stuff like that but hide info about you hackers might steal. So, unlike real melt in your mouth cookies to die for, computer cookies can be both good or bad for you.(:-) But why waste a glob on computer cookies when you can talk about sumptuous cookies to dream about?

 

It’s normal, I think, for a person to like cookies though I never have, at least not for many years. Sure, as a kid  me and my friends could stuff three or four cookies into our pie holes at one time and wash it all down with a coke(s).

“I’ll take three…”

This is how the terms, stupid kids, maniacs, wild jerks and heaven help us came to be. More, we soon figured out that we could sit in place and eat cookies and have twice the fun as we had going outside and spinning around in circles. Why work when all we had to do was eat?!?! (This was the start of the indoor drug craze.)

Cookies in the good old past made days better and parents difficult to hear. Plus, sometimes they came with fruit we never ate.

Back in history, it only took a kid once to understand that two cookies in the belly helped a fella get away from trouble faster.

We all knew the overdose cookie look when we saw it—those glazed over cookie eyes, uncontrollable, wiggling, tapin’ feet, that bent smile for no reason and a head full of bad ideas was easy to spot a block away. Having these famous symptoms was like wearing a scouting badge that outfit never offered but should have. Duh!

Merit Badge: catch a cookie in the mouth.

Anyway, about cookies. For me, doctor, it all started this year with Girl Scout cookies. I bought a box and then a few dozen more. Soon, I found myself daydreaming about how hilarious it would be to walk up to one of those small stands backed by a few moms and girl scouts and buy every box the entire troop had. Funny , huh? Then I started looking at my budget trying to figure how much five grand worth of Girl Scout cookies might set me back—you know, in terms of bills I wouldn’t be able to pay, maybe not ever. But, I’d have the cookies.

“I am sorry; I cannot help you. I am only a cookie.” —a Chinese fortune cookie.

It gets down to the fact that this cookie hobby of mine might take a doc to fix. Let’s just be real. It started with one cookie now and then but today I had four not counting another. Thing is, if we must be truthful, this whole cookie between my cheek and tongue habit really began with me picking and eating a home-grown grapefruit from my yard. I’m serious. The facts are I picked 17 grapefruit on Sunday, ate just one, and now, two days later, I’m eating four or five-ish cookies per day. Please tell me, the madness will never stop!

I’ve found Heaven!

 

So, I don’t need a cookie doctor but rather some expert on grapefruits. That’s nuts, huh? Go figure! I’ve never looked up this type of doc before, maybe, I don’t remember. But, there’s one thing I certainly need. I need a cookie hiding robot, sorta like the carpet sweeper thingy that goes around carpet cleaning all day by itself except my robot would specialize in cookie hiding.  The robot would know the minute I found the cookies and hide them again in increasingly more difficult to find locations. Finally, I’d have to dismantle the robot and put it by the curb—then, I’d be happy.

Obviously, this whole mess about eating seven or eight cookies is about happiness. One cookie makes a guy feel swell and two even better. Three cookies kick the day off nicely while four make you want to dance. Five, six, seven cookies make you delirious until finally you’re eating so many cookies you’re miserable and only cookies can cure you. The Girl Scouts know this, BTW. I should bring them grapefruits.

That’s about it for the cookie/grapefruit problem someone else had. This isn’t really about me, couldn’t be, no, not ever.  Not revealing their identity was hard work. I almost feel sorry for the guy. Anyway, I heard on Fox news that a fisherman said Thin Mints should be outlawed. It may be the next big splash on the airwaves.  News is all so tricky; what hooks and what doesn’t is hard to figure, right?

I guess my computer will save this cookie to the hard drive while I go eat one or ten circular morsels on my shelf.

 

Plus, I need a new scale.

Cheers

Franque23…gobble, gobble.

 

 

 

 

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I’m gonna start wearing a mask during Girl Scout Cookie Season. It’s the only way; I can’t stop eating those things so a mask just might do it! Why not? Many wear masks during the pollen season and right now it’s raining cookies out there. Not just at supermarkets, Wal-greens, Wal-marts or on any corner where people walk, but those cookie sellers are in my dreams as well.

I can’t sleep unless I’ve money in my pocket, like at least enough dough to buy four boxes of girl scout cookies that might pop up in a dream or two.

The women and girls started this mess and they better not stop. I know, we have four seasons but really, Girl Scout Cookie Season (GSCS) is the most important one. Chocolate Valentine’s Day Season is huge and so is Marshmallow Bunny Hop Season during Easter. And who can over look Halloween’s Reign of Candy Season but Girl Scout Cookie Season!?!? Now that, THAT is the mother of them all.

I really don’t like those cookies, I just can’t stop eating them. It’s not the cookies’ fault, it’s my mouth’s fault. The good news is that I know there has got to be a limit on how many GSC’S one man can eat. The bad news?—I’m gonna hit that limit.

Worse, I can’t think when I hear Girl Scout Cookies chirping.

Oddly, and this is the truth, the scale doesn’t say I’m gaining weight eating these GSC’S because, well, I

 

haven’t been on one in a month.

See? It says I weigh zero.

. The answer to the question is not to ask. We all know that.

Plus, shh, why wake up the scale? Give the scale a rest. It’s quite a step up onto that scale, too; I don’t want strain anything.

Listen, I’m not obsessing over these cookies but I do wonder how they might taste fried, over easy for breakfast, or scrambled. Of course, the Girl Scout Cookie hash browns potential comes to mind.

Back to the cookies of, OH My Gosh!, do you see how many choices there are to buy!!! It used to be, back in my day,  the only  choice I saw was thin mints since my face remained buried in those boxes for two weeks. Now, I’ve matured. I look over the collection of great choices and pick, Thin Mints…Plus those coconuty chocolate thingys called, Samoas…See? I now eat twice as many kinds as I did as a kid.

I could’ve retired five years ago if it weren’t for these babies.

 

I do not, and never have, swear, multitasked and eaten two different kinds of Girl Scout Cookies at the same time, not that I remember. Sure, maybe one cookie got in my pie hole before I’d swallowed the first, but technically this isn’t eating two GSC’S at the exact same time. Even if one cookie is well wedge against the right cheek as another is smashed in to the left cheek, that’s not like eating them both at the same time. Clearly, the tongue creates a dividing safe zone for discriminating tastes.

This may be her third box…

Here’s to the cookies of our lives!  So easy to download, right?

In truth, I didn’t eat one cookie today—-you know how this ends right? Like, I’ve eaten five that I counted. Some don’t count, clearly, if I’m too rushed to chew but just mash the thing in order to swallow it, that’s like not a cookie; whole different deal there.

Cheers… dang, I’ve completely lost my mask.

franquecookie.

 

 

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